


The Women

by Fictionista654



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionista654/pseuds/Fictionista654
Summary: Basically, I got really sick of the misogyny and racism on this show. Rating for mild language.





	The Women

Sometimes, girls have to fight harder. Scream louder. The world doesn’t give easily. It calls you a slut, it slaps you across the face, it drags you down. It tries to tell you what you are. It tells you that you’re a vicious, evil bitch, or a timid, gentle creature. Girl Bad or Girl Good? Good Girl’s eyes swell with tears, as her little delicate heart bursts with compassion. Bad Girl screws the world. She knows the truth: the bad girl gets more screen time. 

Bela Talbot lands on her feet in Hell. She takes out every living dead thing within a mile. She grows fangs and claws and screams, screams at the world that has taken so much and taken some more. Evil, slutty, skanky girl. No redemption arc for you, Bela, just the heat of a thousand fires. But Bela was forged in fire. She raises her sword and marches on.

“She dressed me like a slut,” says Meg. “She dressed me like a slut, and took me out into the world like a slut. She ate whorily and slept greedily and screwed like a man. She made me a terrible thing.” 

The girl inside the demon sobs as Sam hurts her. She is nameless, formless within her own body. The demon knife drags down her chest, and she screams and screams and screams.

Jess burns, and burns, and burns. 

Portia touches the collar around her neck. The script tells her to smile. The script tells her to lift her head. It tells her to be happy to belong to this white man. He loves her! She would do anything for him, and he for her. So smile, Portia. Look up, Portia. You’re lucky this man loves you, Portia, because what would you be on your own? (Scowl, Portia. Look at the ground if you want to, Portia. This is your life, Portia.)

Look, girls. You’re lucky to be on screen at all. So shut up and take it. Take the hate and the abuse and squeeze it until it is small and hard within you. Bide your time. Wait for the moment to strike. And when you’re ready, the boys are waiting. 

Hunt. Them. Down.


End file.
